


Fairytales

by AdorableDoom



Series: Fairytales [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdorableDoom/pseuds/AdorableDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In real life, there isn't always a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairytales

**Author's Note:**

> Vague spoilers for Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. This contains character death and some violence.

    Jyn's mother was a storyteller.  
    When Jyn was a little girl, her favorite story had been about the day the Clone Wars had come to an end. The day Emperor Palpatine had delivered them at last from perdition and into an age of peace and order. Her mother had sat against the wall of the tunnel that her parents and the others who had survived the separatists bombardment of the once glittering city they had called home. She'd had Jyn clasped against her heart with one hand and a heavy blaster in the other.  
    The babe in her arms never made a sound. "It was like you knew," her mother would say fondly years later. Her father Galan had delivered her in the ruins of a clothing shop a few weeks earlier while her mother, the surgeon, had shouted directions between gasps of pain. He'd wept when he held her at last as the city burned around them. "He fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you." When she was a child that had always made Jyn beam with joy.  
     Later it would make her heart ache as if it had been ripped from her chest. Her father sat pressed against her mother's side, arm wrapped protectively around his wife and child. He held an ancient blaster rifle of his own. He was a scientist, brilliant and idealistic. Her mother was the fighter, the one who had run into the fray time and time again to help tend the wounded or fire a blaster at the advancing foe.  
    "Were you ever scared?" Jyn had asked, gazing up at her mother in wide eyed awe. "Always," her mother would answer every time, "but sometimes you have to do what's right even if you're afraid." The bombing lasted for days. "We didn't think there would anything left if it ever ended." And then there was silence.  
      A silence more terrifying than the bombing itself. Was it over? Had the Jedi come at last? Or had the separatists found them? Had they decided that genocide was better than conquest?  
      There had been debate among the surviving city government about what to do. Hide or take their chances outside? By the time she was six, Jyn could recite this story verbatim but this part always made her breathe catch in her throat. There had been no need for debate as it turned out. The debris had been cleared from the entrance to the tunnel with a flash.  
     Every able bodied person had leapt to their feet, some with rocks or heavy pipes while others had blasters or vibroblades. Jyn's parents among them. Jyn had liked to imagine that part. The terrified but brave beings who had decided it was better to fight and die rather than be slaughtered. Except the separatists and their droids had never come.  
Instead, sunlight had come streaming into the dank tunnel, illuminating the beautiful white gleaming armor of the brave clone troopers who had delivered them at last. "The war is over!" the commander had shouted. "This world and its people are now under the protection of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine!" There had been a moment of silence and then the tunnel had exploded in a chorus of cheers and applause as people laughed and wept, clinging to the loved ones they'd had left and the strangers they had hidden alongside. "Your father hugged us so tight I was worried he'd crush us both," her mother would laugh.  
It was how he always hugged them. Hand in hand, her mother and father had walked with her into the sun. Her father had put down his blaster but her mother had not. That, Jyn would think years later on the rare occasion she allowed herself to think but those early days, was the difference between them.

      The best stories her mother told had been about the famed Jedi Knights. Brave warriors who had carried the mythical lightsabers and who had the power of the Force. "What is the Force?" Jyn had asked from her perch atop her father's shoulders as they navigated through the crowded marketplace. In the years since the Emperor had come to power and saved the galaxy, the city had been rebuilt even more glorious than it had ever been. It was not at all uncommon to see the black uniformed officers or Jyn's favorite, the white armored stormtroopers moving through the crowds.  
    She often waved at them and sometimes they even waved back. Sometimes she saw people skirt quickly away from them but she hadn't understood that at all. Why would people be afraid of stormtroopers? The Emperor had sent them to keep the peace and watch over the people. Later, when her mother was gone and she was alone, Jyn would think of this and laugh until tears had streamed down her face.  
      The officers always greeted her father and bowed politely to her mother. "He's doing great things," her mother had explained when Jyn had asked, "his work is going to make the galaxy a better and safer place." It had made her feel proud. Later, it made her sick. Her father had opened his mouth to explain the science of Midichlorian levels but her mother had cut him off with a much simpler explanation.  
     "My gran used to tell me it was the energy that's all around us and that some special people could use it to do great things," she'd said with a soft smile. Jyn liked that explanation better. "Are there Jedi here?" she'd asked excitedly, looking around as if expecting to see one standing behind a fruit stand or perhaps selling brightly colored fabric. Her parents had exchanged sad looks at that. Later, as they had cooked the evening meal, her mother had told her about how some of the Jedi had betrayed the Republic and had even tried to kill the Emperor.  
     Jyn had stared at her in horror. Why would anyone want to kill Palpatine? He had ended the war and brought peace to the galaxy? "So they were bad?" Jyn said. Her mother had paused, knife poised above the sweet purple root she'd been cutting.  
     "Some of them perhaps," she said finally, "but that doesn't mean they all were. They protected the galaxy and its people for generations. That, I think, means more than a few bad people don't you?" The Jedi were gone now, even the smallest child knew that. They'd had to be killed when they had tried to kill the brave clone troopers who had tried to stop their treason. "Do you think there's any left?" Jyn asked. Her mother had smiled then, "Anything is possible."

     Jyn leapt gracefully across the battlefield, blue lightsaber clasped in her hand. The enemy was fast but she was faster. Jyn cut them down with ease. She was the best warrior the Order had. And she would win the battle and save the . . .  
"Well, well," a sophisticated voice said, "what an interesting game you're playing." Jyn froze as the carefully imagined battlefield faded into the vast green expanse of the garden and the deadly foes that had surrounded the brave Jedi Knight became nothing more than bright flowering bushes. Jyn stood before the tall man, stick still clasped in hand. He was taller than even her father and dressed all in grey like a coming storm with a skull like face. He was smiling at her but it was the coldest smile she'd even seen and froze her in place.  
      "Wherever did you learn that game?" he asked innocently enough but something in his cold eyes made the words die in her throat. "Jyn!" The young girl whirled to see her mother hurrying across the lawn. Jyn could've cried in relief. The second she was in reach, her mother had snatched her up as if she'd expected the man to grab her.  
Jyn wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and clung to her. "Lady Erso, what a pleasure to see you again," the skull face man said, his tone cordial and pleasant but cold as ice. "Governor Tarkin, we weren't expecting you so soon." Her mother's voice was polite and welcoming but her arms were like iron around her child. The man, Governor Tarkin, was coming to see her father to discuss his work.  
        It was why Jyn's mother had dressed her in her best dress and the servants had been cooking and cleaning all day. "I arrived early and I decided to admire your lovely grounds. Your garden is exquisite. Your staff is quite skilled." "Mama planted the garden," Jyn said proudly, "I helped her." It had been long, hard work but the flowers were bright and beautiful. It was Jyn's favorite place.  
      Governor Tarkin looked at her briefly before giving her mother a smile that wasn't really a smile at all. "Did she now? Well, Lady Erso it seems you're a woman of many talents." Again, it sounded like a compliment but something in his eyes told Jyn they meant something else entirely. Jyn's mother hefted Jyn onto her hip, meeting the governor's cold gaze evenly. "It's Dr. Erso," she said simply but firmly.

   "We can't talk about the Jedi anymore!"  
    "They're stories Galen!"  
    "It's treason! They're traitors!"  
     Jyn awoke to the sound of her parents fighting. Dinner with Governor Tarkin had gone pleasantly enough. He'd praised the food and their home, chatting with her father who spoke excitedly about his work. Her mother had smiled woodenly like one of Jyn's dolls. When she'd been sent to bed, Jyn didn't argue.  
     Glad to get away from the governor. She'd dreamed of grey, skull faced monsters that crept into the garden that night. She had the dreams for years after. Jyn slipped from her bed, creeping quietly as her door and pressed her ear to it. "Treason? It's treason to tell a child a story!" her mother snapped. "You're filling her head with that propaganda! It's the same lies the Republic used to feed us!"  
    Her mother had laughed but it was a cold, mocking sound that made tears fill her eyes. "It's history Galen! Palpatine can't just write them away!" Jyn ran back to her bed and covered her ears. She hated Govenor Tarkin. He'd come and made her parents fight. She hated him more than anything.  
     The door opened with a faint woosh and her mother came in and sat on the edge of her bed. Jyn clambered onto her lap and buried her face in her soft shoulder. "I'm sorry Mama," she said tearfully. It was her stupid game that had caused all the trouble. Her mother had hushed her, rocking her slowly.  
    "You didn't do anything wrong," she promised. Jyn wasn't so sure but clung to her mother desperately. "Does this mean no more stories?" Jyn was willing to give that up if it meant no more fighting but it still had her a little sad. Her mother held her close for several long moments before drawing back so that their dark eyes met.  
     She smiled softly, sadly almost. "Of course they'll still be stories," she'd said, "but they'll be our secret all right?" Jyn had nodded eagerly, lying her head against her mother's heart. The steady beat a pleasant lullaby. "Can you tell me the one about the Queen that saved Naboo?" She fell asleep before the brave queen, only a few years older than herself, had returned to save her world.

    The stories, as it turned out, had been just the beginning of the secrets they would keep from her father. They were almost daily trips to the market place where her mother bought nothing and kept her face nearly hidden in her shawl, grasping Jyn's hand so hard it hurt sometimes. Whenever the stormtroopers passed them, her mother yanked her quickly away. Jyn didn't wave at them anymore. Each time they ducked into a different shop where Jyn played in the aisles and her mother and beings she only ever caught glimpses of conversed in low voices.  
    On her way to school every morning Jyn passed a large poster featuring a massive stormtrooper helmet bearing the words: Report Disloyalty. She couldn't look at it anymore but could say why.

   "Jyn, Jyn wake up baby."  
    Jyn awoke slowly, blinking the sleep from her eyes. It was still dark outside, Jyn could see the twin moons and glittering stars out the window just over her mother's shoulder. Her mother was standing over her, dressed in a plain jumpsuit and vest with a bag strapped to her back. "Remember the story I told you? About the day the Empire came and ended the war?" Jyn nodded, afraid to speak even as her heart slammed against her ribs.  
     "You asked me if I was scared, do you remember what I said?" "Sometimes you have to do what's right even if you're afraid," Jyn recited. Her mother nodded, eyes bright with tears. "There's people who need my help and I need to go with them because it's the right thing to do. I . . ." Her mother looked away, wiping her tears away.  
"I want you to come with me but that would mean leaving our home and it wouldn't always be safe but I would do everything I could to protect you. I won't make force you to come if you don't want to," she explained. "What about Papa?" Her mother looked away and young as she was Jyn suddenly understood. Her father would not be coming with them. "The Empire lied to us. They're hurting people but Papa . . .Papa can't see that. He's too trusting," she'd explained gently.  
     Weak, Jyn would think later, cowardly. "But--but the Empire saved us! You said so!" Jyn accused. She'd told Jyn that story as long as she could remember. They ended the terrible Clone Wars. They saved the galaxy.  
      Her mother shook her head, "Maybe they did once but now they're using their power to hurt people and I can't let them do that. I'm a doctor Jyn, I can't let people suffer if I can do something about it." Jyn looked away, tears burning in her eyes. "Can't you tell Papa that? Make him see?" Even as she said it, Jyn knew she couldn't. And her mother's silence was answer enough.  
     Her mother cupped her face in her hands, smoothing the hair from her forehead. "I'm so sorry to ask this of you but this is something I need to do. If you can't I understand," she said gently. More than once throughout the years Jyn had wondered what would have happened if she had said no. How different might her life had been if she hadn't taken her mother's hand and followed her into the night.

     War, Jyn learned quickly, was nothing like her mother's stories. It was ugly, terrible and dangerous. The galaxy had not been brought to order. It had been beaten into submission by the iron fist of the Empire. There was no peace.  
     There was only fear, desperation, anger and suffering. Her mother went where she was needed. She was a skilled surgeon and the struggle against the Empire had left no shortage of casualties so they moved often. Sometimes they slept in the backs of shops or in the homes of sympathetic beings. Other times they slept on the streets or in backs of freighters.  
More than once they'd had to flee, her mother's blaster the only thing between them and capture. Or worse. Jyn had seen what had happened to traitors to Imperial rule, had watched stormtroopers haul people into the middle of a dirty street and shoot them. Not soldiers or even rebels. Just people who had dared to speak out.  
        And she hated them for it. Hated her father because he was one of them. They never spoke of him or the home they had left behind but sometimes Jyn awoke to her mother's tears which she pretended not to hear and she imagined her mother did the same for her. Her mother taught her how to shoot, how to dress and treat a wound, how to disappear in a crowd, how to hide when you needed but how to fight if you had to. "Things will be different someday," her mother promised as they rode down a choppy river turned a sickly green from the pollution being dumped into by an Imperial mining company.  
Jyn wasn't sure she believed that. The Empire was vast with unlimited resources. How could a handful of people ever hope to change things?

      Jyn is 15 when Ryloth tries to rise up against the Empire. She and her mother had come to meet a contact. She'd never got the chance. The stormtroopers had cut down Twi'leks like a child tearing apart paper dolls. They never had a chance.  
When they shooting had started, her mother had shoved her behind a fallen wall and covered her with her own body. Screams of pain and terror mingled with blaster fire. When the firing had at last come to an end, her mother had grabbed her pack and ran into the destruction the Imperials had left in their wake once she was sure her daughter was unhurt. Jyn lifted her head just as the TIE fighters streaked overhead and opened fire. It's over before Jyn could scramble over the wall.  
     She watched as the blasts tore through her mother and the fallen green Twi'lek, younger than Jyn herself, she had knelt to help. Her mother stumbled as if in confusion, her eyes finding her daughter's for just a moment before collapsing like a puppet who's strings had been cut. Jyn didn't even realize she was screaming until her throat burned with pain. Scrambling over rumble and bodies, not caring if they shot her too, Jyn rushed to her mother's side. There was no aid to be given, even beneath the burning grief threatening to consume her, Jyn knew that.  
      Her mother laid sprawled, limbs bent unnaturally as her lifeless eyes gazed up into her daughter's face without seeing it. She had been dead before she hit the ground. Jyn knelt beside her mother, lying across her still chest and closing her eyes. There was no lullaby, no sound save for the sobs tearing themselves from Jyn's throat. If this was one of her mother's stories, Jyn would've taken up her mother's blaster and charged at the Imperials.  
She would've gone to meet her mother's contact and joined the fledgling rebellion to avenge her. Expect this wasn't a story. There were no noble Jedi Knights coming to save them. No one was coming to save them. Her mother was gone and she was on her own.

Years later, as she stood before Mon Mothma and Bail Organa, Jyn would hear her mother's words once more. "Sometimes you have to do what's right even if you're afraid." And she would stand up and say yes. But at that moment she was 15 and alone and hopeless. And Jyn laid there until her mother had grown cold.

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked the idea of Jyn's mom being a badass rebel who taught her daughter to be a bad ass rebel.


End file.
